Undo: A PostEp for The End in the Beginning
by Roxy206
Summary: A few clicks and she could get it all back. If only things were that simple with Booth’s memory. She moved the cursor, hovering over “edit”. She clicked, looking at the “undo” option. Moving the cursor again, she exited the document. What was the point


Undo : A Post-Ep for The End in the Beginning

"It's me." She stalled. "Temperance."

His face clouded, memories scattering across his mind. He saw her in a white blouse and yellow skirt; her in a black dress, draped across him; her below him in bed, his mouth pressed against her throat.

He saw her in a blue lab coat; her head diving for his shoulder as tears streamed down her face; her lips brushing against his hand as he handed her a cup of coffee.

Both of these women stood before him. He knew they were different women: one was Bren, his wife; one was Bones, his partner. Yet they mingled, one flowing into the other.

She looked around, unsure of what to do. Glancing between him and the door, she finally sat down on the edge of the hospital bed. Without hesitation, she took his hand in hers.

"Do you know your name?" she asked him.

"Seeley Booth," he responded.

She heaved a sigh, part relief and part frustration.

"What's your profession?"

He stared into her eyes. Was she Bren or Bones? He had just been with Bren, the memory was so vivid. He gripped her hand in his and closed his eyes. Another memory flooded his mind: his hand brushing against hers as she returned his handkerchief.

"Booth?"

Opening his eyes, he saw her eyes flicker down. He could tell this was difficult for her. He wanted to give her the right answer, but he was confused.

"I … I don't know," he told her.

Reaching out, he tangled his hand in her hair, pulling her ever so closer.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"Don't be," she told him, but he could see the tears in her eyes.

His thumb moved softly over her cheek. She turned into his touch and the warmth of her skin heated his cool hand.

"How are you feeling?" she asked after a long silence. "I should probably call a nurse."

"No," he said. "Not yet. I feel … okay."

"Do you remember me?"

His mind brought him back to the image of them in bed, as she moved against him and asked him, _do you love me_?

"Yes," he answered. "I'll always remember you."

Even though it was against her better judgment, she dove toward his shoulder, seeking comfort. She knew that it was a risky move since he seemed to have some sort of amnesia, but it was almost an instinctual response. She knew that she should be offering him comfort, but she had been worrying for four days.

He stroked the back of her head as he felt her breath against him. She squeezed the hand to which she still held.

"I'll never let any one hurt you," he told her.

She turned her head toward him.

"I know," she said, the threat of tears choking her voice.

The lids of his eyes were heavy and try as he might, he couldn't keep them open.

She knew he had fallen asleep, but she kept her head on his shoulder and his hand in hers. Closing her eyes, she listened to the sound of his breath.

The fact that he seemed so confused concerned her. After a minute, she forced herself to get up and pressed the call button for a nurse. Returning to the chair she had sat in for the majority of the past four days, she waited.

"Dr. Brennan?" the nurse addressed her as she entered the room.

"Yes, Beth. Booth woke up earlier."

"Oh!" The middle-aged woman was unable to hide the relief she felt. She had observed the nice, if quirky, woman who sat dutifully in the room waiting for any news on her friend's condition. She sensed that there was something more there and she was glad that there would be no heartbreak.

"The thing is … the thing is, when he woke up, he didn't know who I was. Or, he didn't seem to … he seemed confused."

"That's not unusual for someone coming out of a coma. We'll run some tests, but chances are this will just pass. In the mean time, please let one of us know if he wakes up again and still seems confused."

"Thank you, Beth."

She watched as the nurse walked out the door, making a note on the chart hanging in the hallway. Picking up the laptop, she settled back in the chair and stared at the blank document sitting in front of her. A few clicks and she could get it all back. If only things were that simple with Booth's memory.

She moved the cursor, hovering over "edit". She clicked, looking at the "undo" option. Moving the cursor again, she exited the document. What was the point?

Opening her e-mail, she ignored the heavily populated inbox. Instead, she started to compose a new message. Although Booth's condition was unknown, he was awake and she had to let everyone know. The words filled the screen, but they felt empty. She hit send and then closed the window.

Her nails drummed aimlessly against the keys. She hated the feeling of not being able to do anything. Without thinking, she opened a new word document.

It was foolish to want to be a character in a story. Nothing ever wrapped up as neatly in life, so why bother with false expectations? Still, she craved a part of what she allowed her characters. It was something she had never admitted to even herself.

She craved the love of a man. Not just sex, not just his seed. She wanted all of him. She wanted all of Booth.

A murmur from the hospital bed brought her out of her thoughts. Standing up, she set the computer back down and went to his bedside.

"Are we still in the hospital?" he asked.

"Yes. I called a nurse and she said they need to do some tests to check your brain function. She also said that the confusion you're experiencing isn't unusual."

"Did you stay here the whole time?"

"I had Angela get some things from my apartment. I've been here."

He sighed as he shifted on the bed, making more room for her.

"You know, the last time I was in here they gave me pudding cups." He paused and made a face. "But I don't think they'd be any good."

The corners of her mouth turned up in a smile and she sat down at his side again.

"You mentioned something about pudding being bad after that. You remember that?"

"Yeah," he told her. "I remember, Bones."

He smiled at her, but it didn't quite reach his eyes.

"Are you okay?"

"Of course. Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"Are … are you pregnant?" he asked, whispering the last word.

She gave him another small smile.

"It was only four days, Booth. I know you're stronger than that."

"You know," he said, taking her hand in his again, "you're pretty strong, too. I know you might not want to admit it, but this was hard on you."

She started to protest, but then fell silent. His thumb ran across her skin and she felt her heartbeat slow.

"There are lots of things I don't want to admit," she finally said. "But they're still true."

Her hand fell from his and she looked away. This would be the part of the book where she leaned in and their lips met. There would be declarations of love and they would be so wrapped up in each other that they wouldn't even notice the nurse who came in to take him off to run a test, which would of course confirm that he was fine.

And even though she wasn't one of the characters in one of her books, she turned back toward him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. His lips crashed against hers, and she opened herself for him.

Things might not wrap up as neatly as they do in a book. People get hurt and there aren't always second chances. But there are more opportunities for experiences in life. The mistakes can't be erased with the press of a key, but they can be learned from.


End file.
